It pains me to admit it, but my self-control isn’t all that it could be. Especially when it comes to things like cake, ice cream, and rice krispy treats. So when daughter and I made a big huge batch of rice krispy treats to pack in the lunches she’s taking for school, I thought, “I’d better freeze these babies so I’m not tempted to help myself to one or two or twelve!”
Which I did. (Freeze them, I mean. Not help myself to one or two or twelve. That comes later.)
See, ‘long about 9 p.m. last night, when I was jonesing for some kind of treat, I made a terrible, wonderful discovery.
Frozen rice krispy treats are even more delicious than regular rice krispy treats. Like by a factor of 100. They imbue the word “treat” with new depths of heretofore unplumbed meaning. It’s like having frozen opium on the shelf next to the peas.
But I must resist. For the sake of the children. Well, child, at least.
In other news … God, I hate Chase Bank. I miss WaMu so much. Sure, I had my ups and downs with them over the years, but it turns out I never knew how good I had it, with their perky little ATM messages and their funky teller islands and those codes they’d give you to take over to some weird machine to get your cash … oh wait. No, I don’t miss that last one.
But at any rate, Chase is a zillion times worse. It’s like banking as designed by some Department of Corrections somewhere, probably in the deep South. Everyone who works there is surly, obstructionist, snarky, and wouldn’t know customer service if it bit them on the ass.
They hold your checks for no reason whatsoever, just because it’s fun for them, I guess. Their phone tree is confusing and full of little permahold dead-ends, and when you do finally get through to someone they act like you just pulled them away from the best sex of their lives to talk to you. And the little service desk at my local branch, where you write your deposit and withdrawal slips out before going up to the teller? NO CALENDAR. The bored snarky teller to whom I mentioned this said, “yeah, it’s just too small for a calendar.” I CRY BULLSHIT! There are very small calendars to be had, and very cheaply too. But not cheaply enough for Chase, it seems. Scuzzy bastards. It’s time I went with a credit union, or just started hiding money under my mattress.
